Replacement
by indecisive-ays
Summary: The two of them were the alpha dogs of the team, and every pack could only have one. Set after Season 2, Episode 21. D'Jok/Rocket. Prompt from FemaleSpock.


**Disclaimer: I do not own Galactik Football. **

**Prompt from FemaleSpock. D'Jok/Rocket with captaincy as a theme. Set after Episode 21 of Season 2. I'm not sure if it counts.**

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><p><strong>Replacement<strong>

D'Jok flexed his right hand; his fingers straightening to their full length before they balled up into a fist again –the only sign of something wrong in his otherwise nonchalant stride.

"_I know you will," _he had told him and Rocket had grinned at his hand on his shoulder. It had been a supportive gesture. But they had never been supportive of each other and it was laughable that they'd start now.

"_Rocket," he walked towards the tanned guy with his hands tucked into his pockets. "What was going on today in training?"_

That was the first moment he had realized he was nervous. Because his intention and justification as he had approached the midfielder, had been that he was the captain now and he had to –he had a right to- question his performance. Especially if his performance included pushing his captain off in a fit of rage.

He hated that he had not responded, mostly since he had been caught off guard by the strength the usually chill and somewhat awkward guy had pushed him with. Micro-Ice, of all people, had taken the step towards the Netherball Champion and defended his best friend. D'Jok hated that, too.

But he had his hands in his pockets. And Mei had told him that that was generally regarded as being self-conscious by professionals of body language. He had no idea what those people were useful for, however ever since she had given that bit of information, it made him even more self-conscious when he caught himself with his hands in his pockets.

So within the split second that took Rocket to look up, his hands were out, dangling about his side without a purpose, making him feel silly.

"_I was kind of wind up," Rocket said simply, "Sorry."_

Though, why would he feel silly? He was the captain now; he had a right to do this conversation. He had to do this conversation –for the sake of the team. There was nothing silly about him being there.

"_I guess we're all getting used to each other again," he said, as the other boy stood up. He towered over him by a few inches. _

D'Jok had never liked that, either.

"_I'll do better next time," Rocket smiled, "Captain."_

_And that was when he put his hand over his broad shoulder: "I know you will."_

Well, now that "captain" rung in his ears, in a sarcastic, teasing tone which he wasn't even certain was the one Rocket used. But it was entirely possible that he had. Aarch was probably going to give the badge back to him anyway; he had, after all, told him to "keep it warm for Rocket". Rocket could have very well been mocking him, knowing he would take his position back in no time. It was a possibility.

"_Captain."_

The press had been mocking him about the title, in any case, reporting he failed at filling the shoes of the previous leader of the Snow Kids –who had carried, against all odds, a team of misfits to the victory with his game-making, analyzing and team spirit. D'Jok was merely the second choice, not the best one. Rocket was always the best, he was the All Star.

And D'Jok had been nothing but a replacement.

The worst of all was that he acknowledged this fact.

"_I know you will," _he had said. And he still knew he would.

He knew Rocket would gather his wits and give all he had at the upcoming match, as well as he had known that they needed him back if they ever wanted to go further in the competition –he knew it as well as he knew he could not have beaten him in the Sphere.

After all, none of the other All Stars had been successful in that quest and _they_ hadn't been made All Stars in someone else's place.

He stood and took a deep breath. All of this was very new to him. He was used to being the best amongst his friends, the one with the great talent, the great destiny.

The star.

Even after the initial shock of realizing Rocket was made captain instead of him –and honestly, he had not cared about captaincy before someone else was given the title- he had accepted that and let Rocket handle the serious part of the business as he ran the show as the striker. After all, people mostly cared about scorers.

But this entire circus that had been going on since the start of the final sixteen, the All Stars match and Rocket's leave, had brought out the competition once more. For the previous cup and the years since then, the rivalry had been buried in his head on the grounds that Rocket was a midfielder, and he, D'Jok, was the striker. However, now the feeling of being worse at something that Rocket was generally considered to be very good at was eating at his insides.

The two of them were the alpha dogs of the team, and every pack could only have one.

He glared at the door that led to Rocket's room before he pushed the button that would inform his presence: it was time to mark his territory. He was the captain now.

He was not surprised when the door opened to reveal Tia to be inside alongside her boyfriend. But it appeared they were both surprised to see him there. It gave him a sense of satisfaction.

"D'Jok," Rocket greeted, as the two of them stood up from his bed.

"Hey," he said, struggling to keep his hands off his pockets: Tia had one of the most clear, piercing gazes he had ever known and she always managed to make him confess, in spite of his initial behaviour, what he knew was the right thing to do, especially when it came to Rocket, "I need to talk to you, Rocket, can I have a moment?"

"Sure," Rocket frowned slightly, "Come inside."

D'Jok took a few steps towards them; Tia's eyes were still trying to read his motive and he gave her an uneasy look.

"I was leaving anyway," Tia took off without taking her eyes off of him, "You two don't stay up late; big game tomorrow."

"Don't worry it's not that big of a deal," D'Jok said to assure her.

She smiled but it was clear she suspected it was bigger than he let on.

Maybe she was right. She usually was.

"Tia," in three strides, Rocket had caught up with her by the door. He smiled as she turned to look and leant over to leave a brief kiss on her lips, "Rest well," he told her. She smiled and was gone.

The small moment made D'Jok uneasy, though why he was not sure. It was probably due to fact that he had not witnessed many such moments between the two. It felt like he was intruding on something very private.

So he had darted his eyes towards the frozen screen of the holo-TV and by the time Rocket walked up to join him, he had also realized the notes scattered over his bed.

Rocket saw him looking at his notes but remained silent, watching his face to see his reaction.

"Back to old habits, I see?"

"I have some catching up to do," Rocket said simply.

D'Jok looked up: "You don't have to anymore, you know."

Rocket merely sat back at the foot of his bed, resting his elbows on his knees and offering the only armchair in the room to his guest. "What was it that you wanted to talk about?"

D'Jok sat down mainly because standing up without a purpose made him feel stupid.

"I just..." he was caught off guard when he looked up and realized how the artificial lightning of Genesis illuminated the older boy's golden eyes. How the light from the window shone over his skin and made him glow, gave him a huge shadow, one that reached way into the room. It made him think of that different face of his they had witnessed in that stinking underground arena, and he wondered which one was the façade.

He cleared his throat, Rocket's full attention was on him; "I just want to make sure you're okay."

"Dame Simbai says I am," Rocket said.

"But do you feel you are?"

Rocket shrugged: "I don't feel bad."

D'Jok cursed the non-existed communication skills of the ex-captain. Seriously, how had this guy ever managed to lead anyone into anything?

"I'm asking because," D'Jok cleared his throat again, making Rocket who had been eying his notes, focus on him once more, "We can't afford what happened today at the training at a match."

Rocket took a deep breath and stood up, and for a moment as his shadow ate up the room, D'Jok thought he was mad for some reason. But when the midfielder settled resting against the window sill and looked at him once more, he realized the situation was far worse: Rocket was not mad, no, he was _amused_.

Rocket's expression had not shifted much, but he was looking at him with a raised eyebrow and a he had pursed his lips as if holding his laughter in. The shadows around his eyes, made his golden onyxes glow dangerously even while his face was neutral.

"I told you, haven't I?" he asked finally, "I'll do better."

And then he actually smirked.

The small pull at his lips told D'Jok that he knew exactly why he was there. It was as if someone had churned his insides with a stick. He realized that he could not keep on lying; acting like this was about the team, at least to himself.

Because it was personal. It had always been personal with the two of them.

He stood up: "And I told you that I knew you would," he said, as he joined him in front of the window. Now they both had long, thin shadows; deteriorated by the furniture in the room. Creatures of another world, realities hidden well behind masks. "But it is not just about your game, is it?"

"What else is there?" Rocket inquired. He had not taken his eyes off him for a second. And D'Jok was determined not to be the one to break the stare.

"This is not the Sphere," he said, "There _are_ rules."

"I am aware."

"So you should remember that there are penalties for pushing people around," D'Jok finished.

It was quick; but there was gleam of victory in Rocket's eyes.

"I am aware of that, too," he said, as he nodded.

D'Jok cursed inwardly; the guy just did not understand the concept of a flowing conversation. He shook his head and prepared to leave, "Just," he didn't know exactly how to phrase this so he took a direct approach, "Behave."

Rocket snorted and D'Jok stopped mid-step to glare at him.

"I'm sorry, it's just," Rocket waved his hand about; "You'd think I'd be the last person to get a warning like that."

"That'd be Ahito actually," D'Jok said, "But you'd be quite down on the list, yeah." He couldn't help it, "You'd also be quite down on the list people to be found in a place like the Sphere."

"I guess that shows you don't know me so well, then," Rocket shrugged.

"Well, I know running away is your answer to everything, for one," D'Jok said, turning his back to leave once more. He was starting to lose track of why he was there.

"So is yours apparently."

D'Jok stopped again. But did not turn to face him this time.

"No one's had to track me down from secret illegal places though," he marked bitterly. Probably diverting the subject in the face of such an accusation was not the best move. D'Jok had never been a great chess player anyway. He fought with pure force; he was not the one to sit and decide on tactics –yet another one of the reasons that made him the second best captain the Snow Kids ever had.

"No one could have dragged you down there in the first place," Rocket approved, "You just wouldn't be down with the secret part of the things."

"What's that supposed to mean?" D'Jok added "the ability to get his attention" on his list of things he hated about Rocket.

The tanned footballer smiled good-naturedly. And pushed himself off to walk towards him from around the bed. His motions lazy yet agile as a tiger circling his next meal –one that has nowhere else to go.

"For you, with no one to know about it," he said, "What's the use of beating the best players?"

D'Jok narrowed his eyes but did not respond.

"Me, I'm fine with knowing for myself that I'm good, that I can and have beaten the best of them out there. But you," a lone finger, that was merely meant to point at him, or so D'Jok had thought, traced a path down his cheek and over his torso, "You need people to know and tell you. People to witness your great destiny."

D'Jok wondered if Rocket noticed the room was suddenly heavier around them; if he was aware that his taller shadow had swallowed his own when he stood in front of him. So close to him.

He let out a shaky breath.

He wished with all his might Rocket had not noticed that one.

"So," Rocket grinned and stepped back, allowing him to breathe easily once again, "You're right; the chances of anyone having to drag you from secret illegal places is very small. Unlike me."

He smiled as if he had paid him a compliment. It should have been compliment.

But to D'Jok it felt worse than a cuss. Rocket was setting up yet another lane for them to compete in, and was declaring himself the winner by default.

Suddenly he was not even the replacement anymore.

"I really should go back to my notes," Rocket said. He already had, too.

D'Jok nodded and left.

For some reason not being the replacement felt worse.

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><p><strong>So. I wanted to make it with more sexual undertones (I like experimenting different couples lately) but I felt like that would be forcing the characters. Should you want, FemaleSpock, I may try to do something else. D'Jok was painful to write for me, is he okay? Is Rocket too much of the King? It feels a bit AUish. Ugh.<strong>

**On other notes: a friend of mine who knows Galactik Football only through some fics of mine and some videos of Rocket and Tia I showed her to help her visualize the two, told me that Khal Drogo and Dany from the Game of Thrones reminded him of my lovelies. She was all "Oh, you like 'em because they look like Rocket and Tia?" and I was all "BAHAHAHA! I want to write something with this!" Maybe at least something in which Rocket is told he resembles the guy and he goes and watches the show and sees the first episode and is all "W.T.F?" **

**Those who haven't watched it, should, by the way.**

**Also, I can't decide what to work on next. Shall I go for the next chapter of Us or Perfection? Which one would you want? Or a new prompt maybe? Help out a very unorganized grad student here, will you? **

**I am so bored, that's why I'm talking too much. I'll leave now. **


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